Spell Time
by Kelly Knight
Summary: A time portal is opened revealing the true origin of the Greek and Roman gods. Rated 'R' for some violence and sex.
1. Mythology Club

**SPELL TIME**

By Kelly Knight

The mythology club convened bi-weekly in the library basement. Every other Thursday night a topic selected by the group became discussion or at times heated debate. Perhaps more importantly, to all who attended, Dorian brought sumptuous food that disappeared rapidly as the night wore on.

The small society was comprised of four men and three women and was as diverse as the gods they considered. Dorian was a chef. Mark was an unemployed schoolteacher. Jeremy was a retired librarian. Jennifer, the wife of Jeremy, was a professional housewife and 30 years his junior. Erica was a sales associate at the local market and an armchair movie critic. Trace was painter with a small successful gallery and a seemingly endless trust fund. The youngest member was Cory, an 18 year-old high school student who joined the group as an extra credit assignment.

In the summer, the basement of the library offered welcome relief to the stifling New York City heat. In the winter however, the Arctic chill of the air made it painful to breathe and made it harder to concentrate on legendary heroes. On one particularly frosty evening all seven members of the group took on a covert mission to the upper rotunda of the library.

"We aren't supposed to be here!" whispered Cory. "Look at the sign!"

"No need to whisper Cory, the library is closed", Jeremy smiled. "I am sure no one wants us to freeze down there. We'll leave a message for the staff."

Cory looked hesitant and afraid. "Are you _sure_ it's okay? My dad would kill me if I got into any more trouble this semester."

Jeremy grinned and called across the room: "Erica? If the police come to investigate our intrusion, be sure to tell them it was all Cory's idea, will you?"

Corry grimaced. "Very funny Jeremy. I just have a bad feeling about this." She settled into a chair and took off her coat. "But I can't say I am not grateful for the heat."

Dorian, Jennifer, and Trace came up the stairs carrying steaming foil pans of food, a coffee urn, and a box of condiments and utensils. They set up the food and coffee on a small table and uncovered the pans.

'That smells so good," Mark said coming up the stairs with his arms full of books. "Dorian, if it tastes as good as it smells, I'll skip talking and just feed my face."

"I'll drink to that," said Trace under his breath. He pulled out a small metal flask and took a swig. He caught Cory's glance, lifted the flask to her with a questioning expression, but put it back in his jacket when she shook her head no. "Your loss, luv," he said smiling.

"Eat while it is still hot! Fettuccini Alfredo tastes terrible cold." Dorian called.

One by one, they stood in a line and piled their plates with noodles, salad, and garlic toast wedges. Dorian was the last to fill his plate. As he sat down the thanks and soulful expressions of delight on everyone's faces were more gratifying than the meal.

"This isn't very low carb," Cory said through a mouthful of noodles.

"Low carb is the silliest fad around right now. Low carb soda, low carb ice cream. What's next? Low carb bread for Communion? With an Atkins approved pita wrap? Take this in remembrance that Christ died for you, and I am sure he did not want you to get fat." Mark said while pretending to take Communion with garlic bread.

"I don't think you can eat garlic bread for Communion Mark. You can only use it in an exorcism", laughed Jennifer.

"You shouldn't mock God", Cory admonished.

"Are you Catholic?" Jeremy asked. "Catholicism seems to breed fear…"

Jennifer quickly thrust her elbow into Jeremy's ribs. "She's a kid, Jeremy. Knock it off. You are being obnoxious, again."

"She is hardly a "kid"", said Trace. "I've dated women her age." He smiled broadly at Cory.

"I feel sorry for them," she responded. "And I am not Catholic, Jeremy. I was raised Methodist. I just don't feel right talking about Communion like that." She paused. "Last meeting you all told me that the binding nature of the Druids was in their rituals and rites. They held sacred things that today we would laugh at but it meant something to them. I don't expect you to believe in my God, but at least respect my rituals as being holy to me."

"You made your point Cory. I am sorry", Mark reached across the table and patted Cory's hand lightly. "Where has Erica gone?" he questioned looking around the room. "Erica!"

"Maybe she is in the bathroom," Cory suggested. "I need to go too. I'll see if she is there."

"Need an escort?"

Corry clinched her fists at her side, "No Trace". She walked away from the table and disappeared into the rows of books.

"Knock it off, Trace. Leave the kid alone," Jeremy said. "You're too old for her."

"I'm only 24."

"You behave like you are 16," said Jennifer. "Leave her alone. Jeremy is right. You are too old for her. At 18 the only men who aren't too old for her still get carded for smokes."

"Oh you two are hilarious. When you were born your husband was older than me." Nick smirked. "You and I are more compatible than your husband and you will ever be." He winked at Jennifer.

"How can you be so smart and such an ass at the same time?" Jennifer asked.

"As far as I know, the two are not mutually exclusive", smirked Mark.

"I am a smartass. Yeah I know. You are all far too uptight. I am just trying to get …"

"Laid. We know," interrupted Dorian. "Stop boring us with your endless attempts at making the past and the present about your quest to find a woman." Dorian leaned back in his chair and ran his hands through his hair. "You aren't Don Juan."

"Now there is one we haven't done yet. What do you say Jeremy? Don Juan next time?" Trace suggested.

"Next up is a look at Eris. We'll save Don Juan for a night when Cory won't be with us."

"Oh how convenient. Discord's goddess. You know this group used to be fun." Trace stated pushing his weight back into his chair. "Remember when Trina, and Misty and Layla still came?"

"People move." said Dorian.

"Or change", said Mark.

"I never change", smiled Trace.

"No comment", laughed Dorian.

"Erica?" Cory called. Her voice and footsteps echoed in the main hall. "Erica? Are you here?" She ran her hands over the books on the shelf. Her hands brushed over something that felt metal. When she looked, Cory saw a large book with a metal binding. Intrigued, she tried to pull it off the shelf. It took all her strength and both hands to wrest it from the cradle where it rested.

The book was dark red with black blotches on it. The front cover had a large "X" on it. A thin line extended from the middle of the X to the bottom of the book. A large metal lock connected the top and bottom covers. An indentation on the dark black lock appeared to extend inside the pages. Cory pulled on the top to open it, but it would not budge. There was mesmerizing effect happening to her. The cover looked like liquid and the thin line seemed to move. Cory stroked the cover gently. A muffled sound reached her ears. She briefly wondered if this book was electronic, but it looked too old and too weathered.

"Whatcha got there?"

Cory jumped involuntarily and dropped the book. The book cracked loudly as it hit the ground and echoed in a deafening way. A plume of glimmering particles shot out of it. "Sorry, I was…" she coughed and sneezed, "I was just looking. I don't think they would mind if I looked at it do you? I mean it is just a book, and I was just looking at it."

"Relax kiddo," Erica said coughing and waving her hand in front of her. "I don't think anyone minds that you were looking at books. This _is_ the library. I think we are supposed to read here. They need to dust this place!" She smiled. "So are you going to share your treasure or should I leave you two love birds alone?"

Cory blushed involuntarily. She was still coughing when she picked up the book from the floor, straining against the weight. Erica rushed to help her carry it to a long reading table. "The dust smells awful," Cory grimaced. "I can't open it. See? It is locked."

Erica touched the binding and then looked at the front cover. "It looks like an hour glass. See the sand coming from the top of it?" Erica turned the book upside down by swiveling it on the table. The book slowly turned itself back around. "How did you do that?" Erica whispered softly. She was incredulous.

"I didn't do anything," Cory whispered back. "Is the book weighted or something?"

"On a flat surface I wouldn't think it would matter." Erica let out a soft whistle. "That was spooky." She noticed the shimmering book cover. "Look at the colors on it! It is like liquid. It's almost like…blood." Erica shook her head. "Is this some game book or something?"

"I don't know. I just found it and tried to open it. I don't know what it is. But Erica look at it. Does it look new? Look electronic?" Cory shook her head. "Doesn't look like that to me either. I say we put it back and forget about it."

"Forget about what?" Trace stood inches behind them. They both gasped.

"Jeremy wants to know if you two ever intend to return. Dorian wonders if his food made you sick. Mark is worried Erica is lost and Jennifer is trying to convince Jeremy that he isn't too old for her. Come join the fun!"

"Tray, come look at this, will ya?"

He leaned over them both to peer at the table. "Nice book. Are you coming?"

"Tray, really look at it. Cory show him." Erica said making a turning motion with her fingers.

Cory turned the book upside down again. Nothing happened. She tapped it lightly but the book remained still.

Trace sat on the chair beside them and drummed his fingers on the table. They waited in silence for a full minute. "Am I waiting for the book to stand up? Roll over? Play dead?"

Cory picked up the book but it slipped from her hands the book crashed onto the table sending another plume of dust up into the air.

"That book reeks! Where the hell has it been? In a tomb or something?" Trace choked on a cough.

Cory picked up the book and put it back on the shelf. "We should get back," she said.

Erica shook her head. "No wait; there is something really weird about that book. Let's take it to Jeremy. Maybe he can tell us what kind of book it is."

Cory shrugged, but didn't go back. "I am going to learn about the woodland fairies. I need the extra credit more than I need another book to read." She coughed loudly and walked back toward the main hall.

Trace sprinted to catch up.

Erica looked at the book again. As she got closer to it a cold shiver raced up her spine. She sneezed hard without covering her nose. A warm sensation trickled into her mouth and she tasted blood. "Damn", she said and went to find a tissue from the bathroom.

"Wait!" Trace shouted.

"What?" Cory said not turning around.

"Aren't you even a little interested?"

"In what Trace? The book? I think I am more afraid of it than anything else."

"In me!"

Cory rolled her eyes. At every meeting she attended, Trace tried hitting on her, and at every meeting, Cory politely turned him down. However, at the past few meetings his demeanor changed. He was more insistent and less than polite. She imagined that Deborah Lee her best friend would jump at the chance to date a man like Trace, but Cory did not feel comfortable around him. He was too pushy and a little too sure she liked him.

"I don't like you, Trace. I don't want to date you, sleep with you or any other thing you can think of."

"What is your problem? Why are you so sure you don't like me? You could just give me a chance." Trace looked slightly hurt.

"Thanks but no thank Trace." She tried to smile.

"Someday you might change your mind you know."

"By then you will have a wife and kids and small home in the suburbs with a dog named "Max". _And then_ it would be adultery. You just can't win can you?"

"Why Cory Delangelo! All this time I thought you were a meek little dormouse. You're full of little surprises aren't you? Come one, one coffee after the group and then I promise I won't bother you ever again."

"Famous last words," Cory said exiting the last row of books and entering into the rotunda.

Jeremy was packing up. "There you are! Where is Erica? We need to get out of here soon. Jenny just got a call from her mom. She says there is big storm with seven to eight inches of snow expected in the next few hours. Jenny and I have to get on the Thruway. We'll meet on the 16th as planned."

A series of groans ensued. Everyone began to put their coats on and gathered their things. Dorian made a series of trips to his van, each time exclaiming: "It is really coming down out there!"

Erica showed up halfway through Dorian's trips carrying a tissue soaked with blood and the red book. Mark quickly grabbed the book nearly dropping it when the full weight rested in his hands. He set it on the table and looked at Erica.

"Are you okay? What happened?" he asked gently.

"I am fine. I get nosebleeds all the time," she said tipping her head back. "This one just won't quit. I brought this book to show Jeremy."

"Hey, there is foot of snow in the clouds above us getting ready to fall. How about I give you a lift home? We can come back and dig your car out tomorrow morning. Jeremy can see the book next time. He really needs to get upstate."

"You sure you don't mind? I was wondering how I was going to drive. Sometimes these things last 30 minutes." Erica said keeping her head tipped over the back of the chair.

"I don't mind at all. Let's go." He helped her put her parka on and then threw the scarf around her neck and neatly tucked her gloves into the side pocket of her jacket.

They both stood up; Mark holding Erica's arm to guide her as she kept her head tipped back.

Dorian gathered the last of his belongings and head out the door stopping to hug Jennifer. "Call me!" he exclaimed as he headed for the parking lot.

Jennifer and Jeremy looked out the door and sighed heavily. "Cory? How are you getting home tonight?"

Cory looked at them both in utter amazement. "I thought you were driving me uptown." They exchanged glances. "I guess I can take the bus," she finally said.

"If we could we would drive you, but the last time this happened, they closed the Thruway until the plows could get to it. And if we aren't in Kingston in the morning, there is going to be big trouble." Jeremy said.

"Jeremy has a speaking engagement in the morning and they paid in advance," Jennifer added.

Cory nodded dismally. The thought of taking a bus with three transfers at this time of night was frightening if not downright terrifying.

"Trace?" Jeremy threw him a set of keys. "Lock up, please? We really have to go." They both opened the first, then second set of doors and disappeared into the dark. The snow was already drifting at the door.

Trace picked up his leather jacket and short scarf and put them on. Cory watched him with slight trepidation. She looked out the window again and thought about the cold, the dark, the snow, and the bus riders. She could, she supposed, call her stepfather, but his temper was so quick lately that she shrugged off the idea before it really began. The last time she needed a ride, Frank had given her a lecture and a slap on the face. He drank too much, and Cory took the brunt of it.

Trace flicked the switches for all but the dim lobby lights. "Ready?" he asked jingling his keys.

"Hey Trace? Do you think you could give me a ride home?" she asked trying not to sound too desperate. She leaned against the cold glass of the door. "I really don't want to take the bus in this."

Trace opened his mouth to say something but closed it leaving only a baffled look on is face. "Yeah sure," he eventually said.

"I thought you turned the lights off in the other room?"

"I did. Damn, I'll be right back." Trace walked across the room back to the reading tables and flipped the light switches on then off. The light was coming from the book.

'Trace!" Cory spoke in barely more than a whisper from the door. "Look!" She pointed to the book. The lock had sprung open and a brighter blue light emanated from the sides.

"What the hell is that? Is that the book you were showing me earlier? Is it electronic?"

"I don't think so," Cory said without taking her eyes off the book.

Trace walked to the table and touched the lock. He instantly recoiled his hand. "Damn! It's hot!." He looked at his fingers. "And," he added rubbing his fingers together, "It is bleeding."

"What?"

He turned to look at Cory. "I think it is just from Erica's nosebleed."

"Oh," Cory sighed.

"This is really scaring you huh sport? I am sure it is just one of those books with the chip inside. My nephew got something like this last year. You open it and it plays a movie or something."

A very forbidding sensation descended upon Cory and despite her jacket and the heat in the room, she shivered. "Trace let's go. Please."

"Hold on. This is weird. Where is the battery cover?" He lifted the latch of the lock and began to open the cover. "We should try to turn it off before we leave…" His words trailed off. As the cover opened, the blue light became brilliant and a shimmering area bigger than Trace appeared over the book. "Whoa!" Trace exclaimed stumbling backwards. "Holographic? Cory! You have to see this. Look! It is a replica of an ancient Greek villa!"

Despite her reservations, and the fact that she could not see anything except the brilliant light, Cory inched forward slowly and cautiously. Trace continued to smile, his eyes darting back and forth on some unseen image. Cory moved forward and stood side by side with Trace but she saw nothing. "I don't see anything," she said.

"What? Stand here," he said placing her in the spot he had been in. "See the people?"

"Trace, there is nothing there. I see the library wall."

Cory watched as Trace peered closely at something. He spoke the words: "Foris porta", leaned forward and then he was gone.

Cory stopped breathing for a moment and when she felt she could breathe again, she panicked. "Trace? Trace? Trace!" She continued to call his name but no one answered. She knew what had happened to him, but that truth was completely unacceptable. It was impossible. People did not vanish.

Cory approached the book and closed it. It seemed silly, but she thought if she closed the book, Trace would appear again. He did not. The eerie blue light continued to emanate but it was growing weaker. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Jeremy's cell. Jennifer answered.

"Hello?"

"Hello Jennifer? Something happened to Trace." Her voice began to crack with a combination of fear and shock.

"What happened Cory? Are you okay? Where are you? Talk to me Cory."

"Jennifer, I am still at the library and Trace is gone."

"Can you lock up on your own?" Jennifer's muffled voice said: "Trace left her in the library."

"No, listen Jennifer. We never left the library. Trace thought he left the lights on so we came back to the tables. The book I found that Erica brought back with her? It was on the table and there is this really weird glow coming from it. When Trace touched it there was blood on it that he said Erica must have left with her bloody nose. But when he opened the book the light was stronger and then he just disappeared. I think he read the words foris porta."

There was silence.

"Jennifer?"

"Cory, have you been drinking?"

"No! Jennifer, he is gone! He vanished in front of my eyes! He said "foris porta" and just disappeared!" She felt a twinge of hysteria emerge.

"Cory, this is Jeremy. Tell me what happened."

"I just told Jennifer! Please, what should I do? Call the police?" She paced back and forth with the phone to her ear.

"Tell me first. Slowly. What happened."

Cory recited the events again.

"Why was he speaking Latin?" Jeremy asked.

"I don't know! Jeremy he is gone. His keys are right here on the table and he is gone." She slammed the cover of the book open in frustration and a glimmering area a little larger than her own body appeared. The villa Trace had spoken about was in sharp focus although it was dimming. Cory gasped as she saw the image zoom in past people walking, then through a stone wall and finally emerged on the other side into a very dim room. Cory leaned forward and saw the words that Trace spoke. "Foris porta," she read. "Oh my god! No! I don't want to go!" Cory screamed into the phone before dropping it to the ground.

The cell phone clattered on the tile floor. The book's light faded and the cover snapped shut.

"Cory? Cory? Are you there? What's happening? Cory?" Jeremy's voice called into the phone. "Jennifer, we have to go back. Something happened to Cory and possibly to Trace."


	2. Foris Porta

Cory woke up on the hard floor. Her clothes were gone and her body felt bruised. The room was small and hot with only a small amount of light filtering in from under a closed door. A dirty linen cloth lay on the floor beside her. Cory picked it up but dropped immediately. Putting the filthy rag anywhere close to her was a sickening thought. The words "Foris Porta" adorned the wall confirming her completely irrational belief that she the book drew her in to it.

"A narcotic effect," she said aloud to no one. "The book has a narcotic effect on me and I am hallucinating."

"No you aren't. Or if you are, we are having the same hallucination." Trace was leaning against the wall in the shadows hugging his knees.

"Trace! Thank god, you are okay! Where are we? What happened?" She suddenly picked up the long linen and tried to hide her body. Trace did not seem to notice, or if he did, he made no comment.

"I have no idea, but whatever happened, it was painful." Trace extended his leg. Even in the dim light Cory could see the large bruises, spread all over his ribs and legs. "I think I sprained my knee in the fall and I may have cracked a rib. It hurts to breathe."

"If I am not hallucinating then where are we?" Cory said pacing the floor. "You disappeared into the book!"

"See the words on the wall? They say "Time Gate". Sounds crazy, I know.

"Time is linear, Trace. Even with only one year physics, I know that."

"I don't know; it was a gate of some kind. I wouldn't have believed it either, if you hadn't fallen into this room the way I did. Still, here you are. We can't both be dreaming or hallucinating this at the same time. You know it smells in here the way that book smelled when you dropped it."

Cory was silent for a long time. Trace grimaced every time he moved his leg but said nothing either.

"What's going to happen to us?" she finally asked Trace softly.

"Without a way out of here, we are going to die of thirst and starvation if the heat doesn't kill us first."

"That was encouraging," she retorted. "You are the brainy one, think of a way to get us out of here then."

"My IQ can't get me through solid rock. If I could move, I would start looking at the area around that crack where light is coming in. Maybe there is a switch or lever that opens a door."

Two hours later Cory gave up. Her hands were raw after rubbing them over every inch of the walls. She neither saw nor felt anything but hard stone. The heat in the room began to build making her sweat profusely.

"Better save your strength and the water in your body. Don't move around until it gets cooler." Trace said shifting his body. "This really hurts," he moaned.

Cory sat on the floor trying not to think of how dirty it was. She inhaled deeply and remembered the sauna at the resort her parents took her to three years ago. Three years ago, her father was still alive and vacations came twice a year. Italy, Paris, London, The Grand Canyon, Hollywood, even Hawaii were all locations they visited. Their home was a happy place not the dismal place it was now.

"Trace?" Cory called gently across the room but Trace had fallen asleep.

The heat became more intense as the hours passed. Cory closed her eyes. Sleep would not come. She kept waiting for a sound that would help her: a footstep, a voice, any kind of motion. At one point, she picked up a small rock from the floor and scribbled "Cory Wants Out!" After expending the little bit of energy it took to write her name Cory was exhausted. The heat sapped her strength quickly and made her lungs hurt as she took in a breath. She closed her eyes again and this time sleep came. On the second day she tried beating the walls and calling as loudly as she could for help. Trace moaned in pain a lot and Cory began to wonder if he had punctured a lung with a broken rib. Drinking became a consuming thought. By the fourth day, Cory's mind slipped in and out of consciousness and Trace was barely breathing.

The Sentinels, as they were known, found the traveler in the chamber days after their arrival. The late detection was no one's fault; eras passed since the last time the portal opened. The Sentinels decided against opening the door until nightfall when there was no one around to ask questions, and when they had assembled the list of items needed to bring them before the Masters.

There hadn't been a traveler for three eras, and the protocol was not clear but a few who had long memories gave simple instructions for the rest. The Sentinels did not speak to the villagers, but the beacons on the hill alerted everyone that guests were not welcome. The temple's main hall was prepared with hot water; mixed spices and clean clothing.

After pushing a series of mosaic pieces into the wall, the door of the chamber slid up and the Sentinels pulled the two completely limp bodies out of the chamber and into the marbled main hall. They quickly immersed the two travelers into the steaming water and then doused them with cleansing and neutralizing powder.

"They don't look like most travelers do they?" asked one.

"No they don't," said another. "And this one has broken bones."

"Should we heal them?"

"No. We weren't told to do that."

"This one may not live if we don't."

"Bring him quickly to Ares. It is his turn."

The Sentinels finished the job they had been assigned and then went in opposite directions each carrying a body.

Trace woke in pain that he would never be able to describe. His entire ribcage felt as if it were on fire and it itched from the inside out. A steady source of sunlight assaulted his eyes from a large open door making him squint in protest. He rolled over on his left side, away from the light, and saw a man who was lighting incense. The pungent smell of spice wafted on the air before the man turned around.

"You are awake? How do you feel? You had a few broken ribs, but they have healed. What should I call you?"

Trace tried to sit up but the pain that shot through his body forced him to stay in the lying position. "I am Trace," he said in a whisper. His voice was oddly soft.

"Trace," the man said enunciating the letters carefully. "That needs to change. However, for now and while you are my guest, it is fine."

"Where am I? Where is Cory?"

"Don't you know? How did you use the portal?"

"I think it was a mistake," Trace shifted slightly wincing in pain. "Could I have a drink? Who are you?"

The man held out a cup and Trace drank deeply from it. His lips were cracked and he was thirsty, but not nearly as thirsty as he expected. He surveyed the room taking careful note of the elegant stone used on the floor and the brilliant mosaics that adorned the walls. Sconces protruded from the walls at regular intervals and the smell of incense was strong. A large table with weapons of some kind lay on an altar table in the middle of the room. The room felt cold despite the fact that sunshine poured in.

"My name is Kwenx, but here it Ares."

"Ares? God of war, Ares?" Trace laughed but a pain shot through his body so he stopped. The man was slender and wore a classic arrangement of cloth draped over his shoulder extending to the upper part of his thighs. On his head, he wore a crown of green leaves. His hair was impossibly blond and his eyes bright blue. "Where the hell are we? Where the hell is Cory?"

"Okay, let's start with some basic questions. I ask, you answer and then you ask and I answer. Fair?"

Trace nodded.

"First, are you native to this place?"

"Native? I don't think I live here. I live in New York City."

"So you were not sent by Antreen or the council?"

"What council? I was in the library looking at a book."

Kwenx looked very seriously at Trace. "Where is it now? I want it immediately."

"I don't have the book! I was sucked into some picture of the Acropolis. I didn't take the book!" Trace was getting angry. "Look, just tell me where Cory is."

"The other traveler? She isn't here, she is with the others. I can't believe you didn't bring the book with you. I could have escaped this wretched place once and for all!" He took a deep breath and visibly calmed down. "Okay you are from this place, but not of this era. Somehow, you unlocked the book and traveled to our era. I do not understand how you could have unlocked it. Are you a descendent of the One Union? Who did you get the gate from?"

"The gate? You mean the book. I didn't always have it, the girls found it in the library. I saw this blue light and then the pictures. When I saw the room, I started to fall into it. That is all I know."

"You don't know about the gate? How did it open for you? Where did you get the spice?"

"What spice?"

"You are not of Antreen, so you must have had to use the spice to go through the portal."

"The dust," Trace said softly. "When the book dropped, it spewed a cloud of dust that smelled terrible into the air. It covered us all."

Kwenx nodded. "That is one part of the lock. And who provided blood from the One Union?"

Trace thought back to the blood he found on his hand when he touched the lock. "Erica had a bloody nose and her blood was on the book."

"She is of the One Union? You must bring her here. Do not tell anyone else. I will reward you with whatever you want. Name it and it is yours. Women, power, wealth, life hundreds of years longer than you can live now."

"I am not doing anything of the sort. I do not understand how I got here and you are speaking as if I know what you are talking about. I am certainly not bringing anyone back here… I don't even know how I got here myself. You still haven't told me where Cory is. And the trip wasn't exactly pleasant."

Kwenx studied Trace for a moment. This traveler was not a normal one but he knew how to find a descendent of the One Union. If the gate could still be opened, then he could leave this place, possibly escaping Tramail in the process. A bitter taste rose in his mouth just thinking about Tramail. Leader of all is what they called him, but he was the jailer and enforcer of the laws, nothing more. Zeus they called him and he was just as bored in this place as everyone else was.

"I will try to explain this carefully and slowly. Please be patient, and listen." Kwenx said. "We are from another place. We do not exist as you see us now; these bodies were given to us when we were exiled here just as others called "gods" were. There are many of us here."

"You were exiled to earth? Or from another time?" Trace was suddenly very interested, although it was hard to comprehend what he was hearing.

"Both. We are here from a place far outside your known existence. In your language, it might be called, another dimension. That is not very precise but still, it will have to suffice. We are banished to this era and are not allowed out of the time slip. A jailer named Tramail holds us here. The people call him Zeus."

"How do you stay in one time?" Trace asked.

"You are not ready to understand that, and I can't school you for the years it would take your mind to comprehend the math. You will have to trust me when I say that, we exist in the same era. Tramail, makes the transition every so often with a "book" that is a bigger and much more powerful gate, bringing us back to the chosen time. The people change but we remain."

"The people change? How do the people change? You don't see the same people every time?" Trace was beginning to conceptualize the situation, but some ideas were too alien to understand.

"No. The random chances that make you who you are have millions of variations. Then there is the effect of those who are here before us. Those who live in the eras before we are allowed to exist change our world through their actions. We never know from one transition to the next what will happen."

"But our history tells us…"

"Your history tells you only what happened in _that_ progression. If you existed in a different progression, your history would be different," Kwenx paused for a moment scanning Trace's face looking for signs of understanding.

"So I am in the progression that I know? The Trojan War and all that?"

"No. At the end of that past, we had already moved on to the next progression. This is a lot to understand at once. I think that is enough for now. We will travel to the mountain in a few days and we will see what Tramail has to say. Come, you must be hungry."

Trace shook his head. "I can't move. My body hurts too much."

"I can take it away. But in return, you will owe me a favor."

Trace looked skeptical. "Take away my pain and I will do whatever you want," he said not believing anything would happen.

Kwenx pulled Trace up to a sitting position quickly, ignoring his cry of pain. He pressed his index finger into the base of Trace's spine hard and then released it. Kwenx then stood in front of him and said, "You now owe me a favor."

Trace tentatively straightened his back, bracing for the worst. To his astonishment, there was no pain but before he could ask how he had done it, Kwenx pulled him by the arm off the low cot.

"Let's eat! Address me only as Ares, and I will introduce you as my new friend. Have you ever wanted to know what it was like to live as the gods?"

Trace stood up and cautiously put weight on his legs. He expected pain, but again he felt nothing. Gratefully, he walked out of the marbled room behind his host intrigued by his last statement.

Cory gratefully accepted the water she was given to drink. This place was hot and she was thirsty almost constantly. Her "captors", as she now called them had not treated her badly, but other than food and water brought in by a young man; she hadn't seen anyone in over 5 days. It was no use trying to talk to the serving man, he refused to look at her when he entered the room and would not acknowledge anything she said. Eventually she gave up. He "captors" were nameless, faceless people who kept her locked in a room.

Escape was not possible: The room was over 300 feet to the ground and the door was always locked. The windows could not be opened and no amount of noise attracted attention. Cory spent her time watching the clouds roll by the window, counting tiles in the room, even mentally trying to recite the last book she read.

The food on the platter today was no different from the food of any other day; grapes, an exotic red fruit filled with seeds that Cory had never seen before, and a sweet paste that tasted like honey and oranges mixed together. The platter never contained silverware, but a long thin stick that Cory used to spear the grapes, stir the middle of the seeded fruit, and mix the sweet paste.

When darkness fell, Cory wrapped herself up in a large light blanket and rested her head against the heavier blankets spread out on the floor. The "bathroom" was nothing more than a pot. Had it not been for the elaborate drawings on the pot and the fact that the servant replaced it and filled it with water, she never would have known.

If the boredom had not been so unbearable, Cory could have lived on for a long time this way but on the sixth day, Cory could no longer stand being in the room. When the serving man came in, she made a sprint for the door.


	3. Protection and Promises

Cory did not get very far. Once outside the doors the hallway broke into two corridors. She chose the one to the left, wound up racing to the end of a closed alcove, hid behind a large plant in a huge vase, and tried to slow her breathing. Hugging her knees, she waited for the sound of footsteps. She remained motionless for what seemed like hours until her muscles cramped hoping for a chance to escape when darkness fell.

"You may as well come out now. We are ready to receive you in the grand reception hall."

The voice startled Cory; not only hadn't she heard anyone come into the alcove, but the voice sounded like rolling thunder. She jerked involuntarily at the sound as the plant pushed across the floor. A towering man stood in the center of the room and looked down at her. His features were nondescript until she really focused on his face. His features were hard but in perfect balance. It was impossible to guess how old he might be, but her first impression was that he was just a little older than her own age. There was also something vaguely familiar about him but she could not quite understand why she felt it. It was unsettling. She started to rise but her legs felt weak. She had so many questions but decided not to say anything for the moment; fear mixed with an intuitive warning in her head silenced her. The man extended a hand to her and Cory cautiously accepted it. For now it seemed she has little choice.

When the man took her hand Cory felt instantly at peace and all trepidation evaporated. A soft haze descended in her head and while she knew that she was under some kind of spell, it did not seem to matter. She had the same floating feeling as she did the day she swallowed two of her mother's Vicodins.

They walked through corridors, down ornate stairs and in an out of rooms until they came to an open-air garden. A single large door opened into the room. If there was a ceiling it was not possible to tell where it started and the walls joined it. The floor was earthen and there were trees behind the furniture that was neatly arranged in the center of the room. The smell of spice hung heavily in the air.

Cory continued to feel the sensation of floating. She was unable to form words but she felt everything; the unpleasant smell of spice made her feel queasy, the bright sunlight made her feel warm, and the presence of the fifteen women and men in the garden terrified her. For the briefest moment when they entered the room, Cory saw them as dark patches without shape or form. The spots melded into human form before her eyes as if they had been poured into a mold.

"The mysterious traveler," one of the women said approaching Cory. "What shall we address you as?"

Cory could not speak. She tried to say her name but with each effort the feeling of tranquility and peace overpowered her mind and prevented her from forming the word.

"You have to release her from the spell; her mind is not strong enough to break through."

Instantly, Cory said her name and asked 15 questions in rapid succession. The woman smiled and laughter ruptured the silence.

"I love these creatures' minds; so fragile and yet so inquisitive." The woman looked Cory up and down. "You may call me Athena." She sat down and then adjusted her position on a long red cushioned seat. "How is it you were able to open the portal and why were we not warned?"

"I don't know what you are talking about. Who are you people? Why am I here and where is Trace?" They all exchanged glances but Cory pressed on. "Look, I don't know what is happening here or why I am being held prisoner but I assure you Trace and I didn't mean to do anything wrong." She looked at the floor. "Trace says "time gate" and I half believed him but that is impossible …" she stopped suddenly realizing that she was speaking her thoughts instead of just thinking them.

"Tramail, stop toying with the girls feeble mind," one of the men in the room said. "It is quite apparent she doesn't know anything about the portal. Perhaps the other knows."

Cory's head was now swimming with thoughts and ideas that she was sure were not her own. Images of dark and cold over vast periods of time, made her shake involuntarily. The desolation was unbearable. There were ideas about emanating waves, and volumes of fear, the release of cataclysmic power and a confinement of the most claustrophobic kind. She sank to her knees as the room grew darker and the visions and feelings got stronger.

"Tramail, you are going to kill her."

"Does it matter?" the thundering voice said.

"Not even you would interfere with the Precepts!" Athena shouted loudly. "This is too much even for you Tramail. At the next change I WILL send a protest to Antreen's Council. Your authority to take and change life is limited to this slip only."

Tramail laughed and walked to Athena's seat. "You will not like the punishment for opposing me publicly."

Cory gasped hard as the visions lifted from her brain. Athena elevated her hand and swept her eyes over Cory's face, mouthing a few words and smiling.

"You will release her from your protection now Altwix. She may still have valuable information about the gate!"

"You have tormented her enough Tramail. If she knows something, we will learn it from her in time. Time is the one thing we never run of here is it not? I see no harm in letting her exist here peacefully. We kept her alone for longer than we would keep anyone and she said nothing, attempted no spells and only now endeavored to escape. She has eaten from the tree and her blood will soon change." She turned to address the group. "All who wish her to remain unharmed, motion please?" All but three of them nodded.

"Kwenx is not here to voice his opinion," Tramail said sounding like a grouchy child.

"Indeed he is not and my last report is that he has taken the other traveler in as his guest and initiated him with his famous rituals." The room groaned as she went on. "So I think it is safe to say Tramail, that he would voice his agreement with us." Athena smiled gently.

Tramail obviously didn't want to give up, but as he looked around the room, he could see that he had already lost. "At the next transition, Altwix, I will see that you are 'rewarded'", he said coolly. "Very well take her. But do not give her the knowledge yet. Not until we discover what she knows about the gate. Agreed?"

Athena motioned and two women stepped forward. "Take her to my house and cloth her in something more reasonable. Adorn her properly and feed her. She is free to roam the grounds but not to leave. I will attend in a few days."

Cory's head filled with images and feelings. She immediately understood the boundaries of Athena's house and the very horrible punishment to be used if she strayed from the premises. A set of rules and protocols were being transmitted to her without words. Cory tried to stand but she now felt lightheaded and dizzy. It was impossibly frustrating to be held like a puppet in the grips of this mind control. She wanted to scream at them to stop but once again, her mouth cemented itself as two young women led her into the corridor.

Once the room doors were shut, she felt normal again. Her thoughts were once again her own and the barrage of images had ceased. She sighed heavily as the weight of oppression on her mind lifted. The trip was spent in silence; neither of the two women escorting her uttered a word. They barely glanced at her and instead guided her between them as they maneuvered down a twisty path and up a large hill. A full hour later a quiet stillness permeated the air. No birds could be heard singing, there was the softest breeze and a few but oddly shaped clouds rolled by then promptly dissipated. Miles of valleys stretched below the hill as they approached a house carved into the small tor.

A small gasp escaped Cory's lips when she saw the fountains on the left of the house and at the columns of marble that fastened the stone ceiling to the granite floor. It was a breathtaking piece of architecture that seemed to defy the laws of physics. The weight of the ornate and highly decorative front façade of the building appeared to grow up from the rock beneath it. But as beautiful as that was, it could not have prepared her for what she next.

As they passed the columns into the building a mosaic of creatures, exquisitely attractive men and women and wondrous landscapes unfolded beneath her feet. The tiled floor sloped gently into a pool on one side of the room and it rose to the ceiling in a perfect rendering of the sky into stars on the other. Awe and a powerful sense of mystery shrouded Cory's mind. "Wow," she breathed softly.

At the end of the inlaid work was a large archway. Two serpentines of white stone slithered up the framework and touched tongues at the top. When Cory reached out to touch the snakes, both women extended their arms to pull her hand away. They both shook their heads in obvious and insistent disapproval. Cory made a mental note to touch them another time.

They arrived at another arch; this one ornately decorated with two trees of dark stone that grew up into a common crown of chiseled leaves. One of the women spoke: "This is where you will sleep, rest or enjoy solitude. Nourishment is available when requested and you may request it by asking one of the servants in the house. Your clothing will be provided shortly and the table there has a variety of ornaments to don. Should you require anything else, ask one of us." They both curtly left.

Cory took a cursory glance around the room and spied with interest the small plants and shrubs that covered the perimeter of the room. It was as beautiful as any room she had been in before but it lacked the elegance of the grand room as well as being a little too sparse. The air was brisk although not cold and a gentle wind descended from above. Three open arches created windows that could be closed off, as the door to a small garden was, with heavy draped material but they also showcased a phenomenal view of the valleys below. Cory could not imagine wanting to close off the panorama. She eagerly thought about the night sky from this vantage point. _The stars must go on forever_, she thought wistfully.

She pushed aside the heavy textile in the door and entered the garden. It was not a typical garden; there were rock formations and more mosaic patterns adorning the outside walls but it was barren and by Cory's eye, not very pretty. Still, there was a small fountain and bath and after a quick look around, she peeled off her clothing and melted into the water, which was warm and soothing. Leaning her head back against a rock the whys and hows of the events transpiring made little difference. She hoped Trace was not suffering too much.

Trace, lifted himself out of the water and smiled. His arrival in this place had been an unexpected pleasure. Men respected him and women did anything he asked. He shared his days with his new friend who showered him with gifts, food and every earthly comfort he could want. Today, Ares had given him a villa that rivaled any dwelling in New York City. All the buildings were airy and filled with light, not cramped and dark like his apartment had been. The longer he stayed, the less he wanted to go back.

Dinners were always a small feast shared with a select group of Ares' friends but they were careful not to involve any of the people from the cities or towns. "They complicate things," Ares had explained one night. "Emotions are violent and supersede reason. I don't like getting involved unless I have to."

"So why are you called the god of war? Doesn't war require your involvement?"

Ares laughed heartily. "Men wage war themselves; I just help them along sometimes. The blood is necessary… we can talk of this another time. Drink!" he called loudly.

Trace uneasily accepted his explanation but there was something unsettling just beneath the surface of what Ares said. By morning however, Trace had forgotten the entire exchange amidst new gifts and the promise of "power beyond your comprehension". For weeks he lived in grand style and in decadent pleasure. His stomach was never empty and his mind was occupied with intense conversation about his host's origin and his role in this world. He learned of their geographic boundaries as well as their time boundaries and marveled when Ares seemed to disappear only to rematerialize some place else. His power over women however was the greatest mystery to Trace and one he desperately wanted for himself. In the depth of night after being with Ares for over a month, Ares made good on his promise.

Trace was led to a large temple of marble. The rooms were sparse, as all the rooms Ares had shown him were and the pungent odor of what was called 'spice' hung in the air heavily.

"I want you to pledge yourself to me," Ares said as they approached a small door. He turned to Trace suddenly looking very serious. "How badly do you want to be like me? To be a God? I have shown you only a little of what I can do; there is a world of possibility available to you, but it will not be a gentle transition and you are going to be tested to your limits."

Icy fear drove a sharp spike into Trace's chest and stomach. _What was Ares going to ask him to do?_ he thought. "I don't want to do anything that will hurt someone," Trace finally said. He tried to look away from Ares' face, but he found it impossible. Ares had changed into a dark moving form much like a shadow but there was nothing discernable about him. The dark spot descended over him and he frantically tried to brush it away, but in seconds, he was immersed in wave after wave of thoughts, emotions, and the realization that a supremacy he had never thought of before was possible. Bending people to his will was the simplest of it, while transforming the land was one of the greater ones. Earthquakes, storms, men, women, children, animals, combinations of animals and men, were all within his power to control or create. When Ares took human form again, Trace had collapsed to his knees and his breaths were coming in gasps.

"Are you ready to be like me? The very power of creation is within your grasp right now, but I will never make this offer again."

Trace struggled; swaying from side to side, as he righted himself. "Tell me what I have to do," he said greedily. His thoughts were consumed with thoughts of control, power and the pleasure both would provide him. Unbridled need welled up from deep within him and he shuddered involuntarily. "Tell me," Trace said again.

Ares smiled widely showing his gleaming teeth. "First you promise me that we will work together to bring the book here, the one you came here with. Agreed?" Trace nodded. "Second, through this door are insignificant beings that you will sacrifice to me. I am about to gift you with the power to be like me, but you will never forget that you are in _my_ service and to show your loyalty, you will sacrifice to me when I command it or I will strip your power and leave you in the miserable state you were in when you were brought here. To emphasize the point, Ares pushed his hand on Trace's shoulders and a sharp pain exploded in his abdomen. He fell to his knees once again and this time he could not catch his breath. Ares towered above him and pulled him up releasing his grip from Trace's shoulder. "Good," he said gently. He thrust a knife into Trace's hand and opened the door. A man and a woman were tied together, back to back; their arms bound together. Both had the look that only fear can produce.

The woman seemed to recognize Ares and she began to weep openly. The man said nothing but he was sweating and shaking. Trace lost his resolve and dropped the knife. "I am not going to kill anyone." His head once again filled with images of power and awesome control and he picked up the knife. A war broke out in Trace's head, he wanted the power, but he could not bring himself to spill innocent blood. "I can't do this," he said at last.

Ares lifted Trace's body off the ground and an invisible hand gripped his throat. Trace gurgled and kicked his legs but he could not escape. "I have shown you what you can have, treated you as my guest and given you everything. You dare to say no to me?" He pulled Trace on invisible ties close to him and spit on the ground. "Very well, I will offer this to the other traveler." He released Trace and set him on the ground. "Get away from here as fast as you can traveler, or I will hunt you down and kill you when I am done here."

An unexplainable rage filled Trace. _Cory was not worthy to wield this kind of power_, his mind screamed. The power should be his!. An onslaught of every frustration, miserable event and hate filled moment he ever had played like a movie in his head. His boss, his ex-girlfriend, his brothers and everyone else who had made his life as difficult as it had been for the past twenty-one years of his life sprang into his mind. He picked up the knife and without a second thought slit the throats of the man then the woman. He watched the blood pour from the wounds, he inflicted while the sharp metallic smell of blood and an eerie silence filled the room.

Ares swiftly took a cup and filled it with blood from both victims. He drank it all, closed his eyes and then breathed in deeply. "My power to remain in this form comes from your building blocks; the very genetic material that comprise you. Without it, I can not maintain this shape. We learned this trick a long time ago. Drinking blood is the quickest way to absorb the genetic code.

Trace was in a trance of sorts. His actions, the ramifications, a feeling of pain and the dawning of knowledge in his head conspired together to make him feel disconnected. Ares approached him and touched his forehead to Trace's head. "Are you ready? I hope I don't kill you, I have never tried this before."

When Trace awoke, the sun was high in the afternoon sky. His body felt light and his mind was surprisingly clear. His memory stopped at the moment Ares' thoughts became his own. It was a dangerous mixture of hate, discontent and a need to escape. What happened next was an unidentifiable sensation of being one with a being and then separating. It was painful to experience and Trace wondered if that was what it had been like to be born. His body hadn't changed, but he had a feeling of carefree lightness that he had never had before.

It took a few minutes to realize that he was no longer in the temple. He was lying in a small cot in the villa he had been gifted. A bucket of water stood on one side of the cot, and a table with fruit stood on the other. Trace took the fruit, ate a piece and carefully spit out a seed in his hand. He thought hard. Had he been given the power? If he had been gifted the power Ares had promised him, he should be able to make the seed grow by his will. He then watched in fascination as the seed exploded into a growing plant, before his very eyes. It was small and had wispy tendrils, but it was obvious that he had made it grow with his own thoughts. Trace eagerly jumped off the cot; his head began to fill with ideas and ways to use his power. His first thought was Cory.


	4. The Book

Jeremy opened the door to the library and looked around. The librarian was sitting behind an octagonal oak desk. She looked up at Jennifer and Jeremy in acknowledgement. "You must be very determined to borrow a book to come out on a day like today," she said in a crackling voice.

"Has anyone else been here today? Did anyone stay here last night?" Jeremy asked scanning the room. It had taken them six extra hours to get back into the city because of the snow. The blizzard was greater than anyone had expected it to be and white powder was still falling. Snowplows cleared away the snow but it was falling faster than they could keep up. He had called the police but after a cursory check of the building, they found nothing and suggested that Cory and Trace had spent the night together somewhere. Jeremy had laughed, but Jennifer had been nervous about that thought.

"No one at all," replied the librarian returning to her book.

"I need to call the police again," Jeremy said quietly.

"Are you the folks from the club? The police were here this morning to give me a report. They didn't find anyone and there was nothing wrong aside from the doors not being locked. I filed a report about the doors and I have to remind you that if it happens again, we will have to take your keys. And speaking of keys, these were left here last night." They were Trace's keys. The small holographic icon of EMC inside a square was unmistakable his.

Jennifer's face turned a shade red Jeremy had never seen. "To hell with the keys! Where is Cory? I'll kill Trace if he has hurt her Jeremy."

The librarian snorted at the word "hell" and began busily scribbling something down. She looked up at the pair twice and wrote fiercely. Jeremy approached the desk calmly and intended to ask the woman if he could use the phone again but she stood up briskly and walked away disappearing into the stacks. The word "perturbed" sprang instantly into his mind.

"Okay, let's be calm Jen. Let's go to the coffee shop next door and try to call them again. Maybe they are home now. If they aren't we'll call the police again and file a report. Cory's parents must be worried sick about her.

They turned to leave when Jennifer caught the glint of something out of the corner of her eye. "Jeremy? Cory said something about that old dusty book she found didn't she?" Jennifer pointed to a book on the librarian's desk. "Was that it?"

Jeremy returned swiftly to the desk and picked up the book. It was impossibly heavy. He looked carefully around for the librarian then stowed the book under his jacket. "I am just going to borrow it until I figure out where they went. Maybe there is note or something in it. I can't wait for that woman to come back and something tells me she won't give me the book anyway." He almost tripped over the carpet by the doors as he raced for the exit.

In the coffee shop, Jeremy opened a folder with names and numbers on the inside pocket. He called the number beside the name Cory. It rang twice before a man answered.

"Hello?" said the man.

"Hello? Is this Mr. Delangelo? Cory's dad?" Jeremy asked.

"Her _step-father_,"he corrected sounding annoyed. "And it is Mr. Shasta. Delangelo is dead. What has she done this time? I don't have any money if she is in trouble and her mother is out of the state on a," he paused before continuing, "…business trip."

"Have you seen Cory today or last night?" Jeremy asked.

"No, I figured she spent the night at a friend's house like she always does when her mom is away."

"Can you give a list of friends and their numbers? Cory might have run into some trouble and I would really like to check on her."

The man on the end of the phone hesitated but eventually agreed. "She is a little tramp, she probably spent the night with some boy," he muttered.

After reading off a list of numbers and names, Jeremy hung up the phone. "I see why Cory likes to spend her time with us. Her step-father is a prick."

Jennifer clucked Jeremy's summation and took half the list of Cory's friends to call. After 20 minutes, it was clear that no one had seen Cory for the past two days. Jennifer called Trace's home number but the answering machine picked up. "Hey! I am adventuring in the world trying to cause chaos. Leave me a message and I will call you soon. Or try my cell at 315-555-0009." Jennifer grimaced at the sound of his voice and quickly called the number. The book rang.

For long incredulous moments, Jeremy and Jennifer stared at the book. Jeremy pulled it over carefully and tried to open it. It was locked and wouldn't budge. "There must be a compartment inside it." That reasoning placated Jennifer but her mind replayed the conversation she had had with Cory last night.

"Jeremy? Cory said Trace disappeared into the book after saying something in Latin right?"

Jeremy nodded. "_Finis Porta_. Means Time Gate."

"Do you think they were taking drugs?" she asked not believing it herself. Jeremy flashed her look of disbelief. Still, what possible explanation was there for Cory's exclamations? Unless Trace had tricked her. Trace was one that she didn't trust and especially around Cory. He had all the worldly experience of a man in his thirties although he was only twenty-four and he had none of the conscience he should have. However, it was hard to imagine him actually hurting anyone. Trace was annoying and persistent but he didn't seem especially dangerous. Until now anyway. "I am really nervous about this Jeremy. I have a terrible feeling that something has happened to Cory. Her voice sounded hysterical on the phone."

Jeremy sighed heavily. He didn't want to admit it but his wife was right. There was something weird about the way Cory and Trace couldn't be found, but a car accident or a snowdrift seemed to be more inline with what happened. Trace wouldn't take Cory anywhere. "Time to call the police again and let's get everyone we can over here to see what they can remember."

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Well past dinner, the Mythology club met again this time in Dorian's living room. There was no real urgency but Jennifer was tense and upset. She was now fixated on the idea that Trace had somehow tricked Cory and abducted her.

"I think you are over-reacting a little," Dorian said setting a plate of vegetables and spinach dip. If anyone doubted that Dorian was gay, one look around his living room would confirm the suspicion. He placed coasters under everyone's cups and then straightened a pile of magazines on the coffee table. The doorbell rang and two officers one almost a foot taller than the other, stepped in from the lightly falling snow.

"Good evening folks. Is Jeremy Richmond here?" Jeremy stood up while Dorian escorted the two officers in the house. "Mr. Richmond I know you are anxious to find your friends but dispatch reports that this is your third call today. Sir, you need to let us do our job. We'll find them and if the girl is 18 and not a minor, we can't even file a missing persons report for another 24 hours. Is there something new you can tell us?"

Jennifer stood up and started talking before Jeremy could open his mouth. 'She is a child. A senior in high school. She isn't an adult and Trace Saliant is not to be trusted."

The officers exchanged looks and one of them opened the door allowing a light but icy gust of wind into the warm living room. The fireplace crackled and spit. "In twenty-four hours," the taller officer began, "we will file a missing persons report and assign a detective to the case if they haven't returned. Ma'am? Do you suspect foul play?"

Jennifer retreated a little and shrugged her shoulders. "I honestly don't know." Erica walked through the door with a tissue and some hot coffee, which she gave to Jennifer. The whole room was silent expect for the fire and the Erica's sniffles. Eventually the officer spoke again but not before looking pointedly at each of them.

"This is a difficult time, but try to keep this in mind; most people turn up and have an embarrassing story to tell or they went off on an adventure they don't want to tell anyone about." He smiled although no one else smiled back. "We'll be in touch."

Jeremy turned to walk with the officer to the door. In a low, hushed voice he said, "There is a possibility that there were drugs involved. The girl that called us said some pretty amazing things that I can't really explain." The officer nodded and brought out a notebook. He wrote something down and then handed Jeremy a card that read Officer Reese Tach. His phone number and an address were on the card. The officer left and the room fell silent again.

"If you could have heard her on the phone, you would know why I am so worried," Jennifer said to no one in particular.

"I know they had words when they walked back to the room, after she found that book," Erica said quietly. Jeremy reached behind the couch and grabbed the book with both hand and it landed on his lap. He chocked on the pungent smell that filled the air. "That's the book!" Erica exclaimed. 'Why did you bring it here?"

Jeremy tried to open it again. "Did you open in? Trace's phone is inside." Erica looked at him with raised eyebrows. "There must be a compartment or something in it. Jennifer? Call the number again would you?" Jennifer produced her own phone and called the number she had written on a napkin from the diner. The book rang again although it sounded distant and muffled. It stopped after two rings. Jennifer instinctively said "Hello?" but there was nothing but dead air on the other side. Jennifer hung up and tried to call again but this time it was busy. She gave the phone to Jeremy. "Now that is weird." Jennifer tried to call once more and this time she was rewarded with a message that said, "The digital subscriber you are trying to call has moved out of the service area. Please try your call again later." The phone stopped ringing. Jennifer leaned into the deep soft couch.

"Maybe the batteries have run down?" suggested Mark from an easy chair placed in front of the hearth.

"We should open the book. Maybe his phone has the last person he called on it," sniffled Erica. "Although I have to tell you, I think we are making much ado about nothing."

"I have tried but it is locked and I don't see anyway to open it. Erica? Did you open it?" Erica sneezed into a tissue and said "No." Jeremy set the book on the coffee table and watched as the cover shifted in a fluid motion. "It looks like there is liquid inside of this thing."

Dorian who had been fidgeting on the end of the couch walked to the table with a rag in his hand and lifted the book. "This thing looks filthy!" he exclaimed testily. "How old is this book?"

"Truth is I have never seen anything like this, but…" Jeremy began to say. He was interrupted when Dorian's rag slipped and as he reached for it, the book slipped from his hand and onto the edge of the fireplace. A noxious cloud of dust spread into the air and the fireplace glowed with a yellow-green color. The entire room erupted in coughs and sneezes but the fire captured everyone's attention. The room was at once stifling hot as if someone had turned the furnace to it's highest temperature. The wax candles on the mantel melted and dripped into the fireplace. Everyone's eyes watered and Dorian who was the closest to the yellow glow watched as the book opened and blue light spilled from the edges. He turned to Jeremy and pointed to the book; he couldn't form words. Dorian's face was the color of a cherry with extra red coloring. Without thinking further, Jeremy sprang up and opened both the inner and outer doors then quickly pulled everyone outside. Dorian was last and in some kind of mesmerized trance. His gaze was fixed on the book and while Jeremy couldn't see what he was staring at, he saw the blue light spilling to the room stronger than before. Jeremy pulled Dorian's 200-pound frame hard and eventually he walked, or rather staggered out of the house.

Erica shivered hard in the cold and Mark threw his light jacket over her then rubbed her shoulders. "What the hell was that?" he said running his hands up and down Erica's arms.

"I don't know but Dorian's face was redder than I have ever seen anyone's skin and I thought it might be carbon monoxide poisoning. Your face is still red Dorian." He watched as Dorian reached up to touch his face. "I am going to go back in. Stay here," Jeremy said to everyone.

When he entered the small mudroom again, he could see that the living room was suffused in blue light. He cautiously walked into the room and saw the book by the fireplace. The yellow-green tint of the fire was gone but the air smelled musty and a very displeasing odor lingered in the air. Jeremy approached the book and at once, he could see a Greek villa. It looked like a projection that was emanating from the book but it had impossible clarity even for a sophisticated hologram. There was a pause and then there was a zooming action. The projection sped past people and buildings and up a hill to what looked like a temple. The image then sped into a room and rested on a wall that said "Foris Porta. Jeremy swore an involuntarily "What the hell?" Underneath the words, scrawled in faint markings were the words, "Cory wants out!" Jeremy felt an odd sensation in his veins like someone had replaced his blood with ice. How did her name get into the projection? He closed the book and then opened it again. The projection was gone and this time he looked very carefully at the pages. Each page contained some kind of scientific codes. He took a deep breath and then called to Jennifer. "Come in!" he shouted not moving from the book. "I think we are safe."

The group came back in shivering and rubbing their hands together. Mark looked down at the book and whistled, "Looks like some kind of advanced DNA sequencing map. Three years of pre-med were good for something huh?"

Jeremy flipped through the pages with careful diligence. Each page was much like the next; code written in a strange format that looked oddly out of place on the yellowing pages of an ancient looking book. By the time he reached the middle of the book it was obvious that there was no hidden compartment and when he reached the end of the book, the schematic diagram and accompanying picture of a cell phone looked ridiculously anachronistic. He turned to the last page and there saw an image of Cory and Trace.

"Wait a minute," said Erica. "How did their pictures get into that book? Is this some kind of trick?"

Jeremy sat back against the leg of the couch on the floor. He took off his glasses and wiped them several times. In truth, he had no answers and he had the feeling that he was on the verge of waking up from a long dream. He knew however that he was not asleep. "I have to think about this for a while," he finally said.


	5. Mysteries Unfold

The soft sound of trickling water soothed Ares. The closer he got to the mountain, the louder the water became and the greater his peace increased. This place was an oxymoron to him though, for while he loved to be here he was the least welcome. In one progression Athena had been his lover and with the physical forms they had assumed, pleasure in heights he had never experienced before were his. However, that was long ago and she was no longer his. He was alone.

Many things had changed, but many things remained the same like Olympia, the temples the ocean, the permanence of his sentence. Everything here could be changed except the one thing that mattered most: freedom from this horrific prison. In all their devious ways to punish, the Antween council had outdone themselves with his one. It wasn't just the repetitive nature of existence he found harsh, it was the inability to assume the form that made him the being he truly was. This form, while interesting on occasion was constricting and limiting. Only during time shifts could he experience life without the constriction of physical form. Those shifts were painfully short and seemed to take forever to arrive. When he reverted to his native form between progressions, he could hold it only for a short time and it exhausted him afterwards. If only he could find the gate!

The traveler Trace might be a valuable source of information but there was more that he needed to learn. There was ruthlessness in Trace that was refreshing, but it was too wild and unpredictable. Reading his thoughts was like looking at a riptide. The surface was calm, barely moving while beneath it, there was constant violent movement, and force that once caught in might be hard to control. If he were going to be a tool, he would have to be taught to control himself. Giving power to the traveler had exhausted him past the levels he thought possible.

The blood feast refreshed him, although none of the others would partake in it. They refused to overtly kill. But the vigor it afforded him could not be ignored. He was more powerful than Tramail afterwards.

But it never last long enough.

A sentinel appeared immediately at the threshold of Athena's grand building. "You are bound by the laws of Tramail. You have been forbidden to enter the grounds here. Leave this place now and no punishment will be necessary."

Ares regarded the sentinel the same way he would regard a tree. He was an interesting fixture of this prison, but he wasn't especially dangerous. Sentinels were like bees that guarded a nest. Their stings were not especially hurtful but they could attack in numbers that could quickly overwhelm. They did Tramail's bidding and they were fiercely loyal to him but they were pathetic creatures that in the Antween social structure amounted to slaves.

"I have come to see the traveler called Cory," Ares said examining his fingernails. The sentinels didn't read minds but they sensed emotion so he hid every feeling he had. This sentinel belonged to Athena, appointed to her by Tramail. His own sentinels were useless creatures except in times of war. The sentinel disappeared and Ares sat down on a small stone bench that had appeared. The manipulation of rocks was an easy power to master, but it amazed the human creatures. It was too bad there was no around to impress.

A few moments later, the other traveler appeared and Ares understood instantly why Trace thought the way he did about her. She was dressed in a long flowing fabric that was obviously Athena's making. The material looked as if it would dissolve if it were touched and only the many layers of it hid the physical form underneath it. Her hair was adorned with gold and silver ornaments and it had been pushed up on her head by something unseen under the nape of her neck. Long tendrils of delicate brown hair cascaded down to her shoulders where it had escaped the ornaments. Her eyes were dark pools of color and the soft innocence of her face was irresistible. While startling, Ares was secretly pleased. It would make his task easier than he could have thought.

She approached him cautiously but when he lifted her hand to kiss it, he sensed that he had disarmed her.

"Who are you?" she asked politely.

"I am Ares, Kwenex of Antween and you must be the traveler Cory." He motioned her to the bench where she sat down while he remained standing. "I knew you must be special, but in all the places I have been, never have a seen the combination of …" he stopped and chided himself. He sometimes forgot how to speak to humans and women in particular needed special words. He quickly scanned her thoughts and found the right words. "You are enchanting," he finally said. She had brilliant questions to ask, he noted as he found her language core, and he knew at once how to win her trust.

Cory blushed and looked down but Ares lifted her chin and gazed directly at her. "Would you like to come with me for a while? I understand from the servants that you have not left this place since you arrived. You must have many questions; perhaps I could answer some of them?"

"Can I leave? I would love to see more and understand what is happening here. How will I get back to my home? Where is Trace? Why was I prisoner for so long?" Cory had more questions but she stopped quickly after she saw Ares smiling at her. He had the kind of beauty that was both rare and classic. An unfamiliar but wonderfully warm sensation began to build inside of her.

"Let's go," he said standing up and extending a hand to her. She cautiously took it and let herself be lead away from Athena's house. "I can call horses if you like. Or we can walk."

"I have never ridden a horse," Cory said slightly embarrassed. "I grew up in the city."

Ares looked at her quizzically. "I can control them Cory," he responded. He closed his eyes and after a few moments two horses galloped up from the hillside. "Take the mare," Ares said lifting her onto the horse. His hands rested on hers as he showed her how to control the reigns. "She obeys well," he said smiling at Cory. "And she will be your servant for as long as you desire her."

An exhilaration and wonderful feeling of excitement flooded Cory's body as she followed Ares on the horse. It was a magnificent creature that had the coloring of honey and a dark mane of black. She softly brayed when Cory stroked the long soft hair. "I think she likes you," Ares said.

Cory smiled deeply feeling free for the first time in countless days. How long had she been here? She had stopped counting the nights, but her monthly cycle had come three times and in all that time, she had hardly been spoken to at all. Servants bathed, dressed and saw to her every need. She was fed well and given a beautiful room, but it was confining. They gave her books to read in a kind of code that she was taught to decipher. She learned a history of Antween, but with detached understanding. She had only the occasional thought of being home and even then, it seemed so remote and distant, it almost felt alien. Without people around though it felt like a very nice prison. "Where are we going?" she asked after about an hour of riding. Ares' horse was beside hers now and Cory flushed every time he looked at her. She felt silly and stupid but the way he spoke, the way he carried his body, even the way he smiled at her seemed to conspire together making him irresistible. He wore a light tunic and it was belted with a leather strap at the waist. His hair flowed in wispy strands to his neck and he sported a thin line of hair above his lip. Unbidden, thoughts about one of the few conversations she was party to with Athena replayed in her mind:

_Be careful here, even of me. We have been here so long that our own existence feels meaningless. We play with the lives of your kind when it entertains us. Beware of Ares for he is an exile even among us as exiles. Do not anger Tramail and trust your own feelings. They are the only thing that we cannot control. _

Cory had the feeling that Athena pitied her the way any human would pity an animal with little intelligence.

"I would like to take you to the city of Arteala. I think you will enjoy it. Today is a fair day and there will be many events for you to witness and enjoy. After that, we will talk for as long as you like about whatever you want. Unless you want to do something else?"

Cory found herself breathing harder involuntarily. His words "something else" were immediately followed by a thought of kissing him. Why did she feel this way about a man she had met just hours ago? "That sounds wonderful. Can I ask about Trace? How is he? Athena told me he had healed and that he was busy with some project you gave him. Is he well?"

"You care for him?" Ares asked.

She looked away and had to think about what answer would be the best. "He is the only connection I have to the world I belong in. I guess that means we have a kind of bond."

"That was a nice way of avoiding my question."

"He is a friend. I care for him as a friend."

"He thinks about you as more than a friend."

Cory could feel the old frustration that Trace always brought about but quickly suppressed it. "I know, but I don't like him that way. He is too old for me." She looked at Ares and offered an apologetic look. "I mean he is not the kind of man I like."

Bring the horse closer to hers, Ares asked, "What is the type of man you like?" She stopped herself from saying _you_. If he sensed anything, nothing showed in his demeanor. "I don't know exactly. I haven't been on many dates."

"Your language is both interesting and boring. You say "dates" and that means the social meetings of men and women? But it is really the prelude to mating is it not?"

Deep embarrassment swept through her. Sex was the last bastion of adult life she had yet to enter. "I guess so," she said hoping to avoid saying anything immature.

"Forgive me, Cory. I forget that not everyone is as honest and blunt with their questions as I am."

Cory hesitated but said, "I understand completely. I am always being accused of the same thing. I guess we have something in common."

"Perhaps we do. To answer your question, yes your friend is fine and he is indeed on an errand. He is quite happily in charge of a small region that is being built near the sea. He has men in his charge, crops in the fields and he is doing quite well"

"Sounds like he is a king!"

"I suppose you could call him that."

Cory was stunned silent. "Wow. He is a king and I know how to knot my hair differently. We certainly have treaded different paths."

"Does it disappoint you?"

"No. I guess I am not surprised. He is brilliant, I am not."

Ares stopped at the top of the road they were traveling. "You shine like the brightest star in the darkest sky." He did not look at her when he said this but even without looking, he could sense her thoughts and he knew she desired him. There was something powerful about her that was not normal for these beings. She wasn't like Trace. "We are here."

They spent the day watching games, looking at the merchant's wares and listening to music played on small stringed instruments. Cory, Ares noted, was amazed at the simplest of things. She reveled in the sounds and gleefully clapped for the contestants as they wrestled. She ate sweet cakes and rolled her eyes in contented delight. Ares watched every move she made mainly for her safety but also with a rapt fascination. Something long forgotten stirred to life inside of him. But the memory of the pain it caused was two heartbeats behind it. "_Focus_," he reminded himself aloud on more than one occasion.

When the sun cast its orange glow on the city, they retrieved the horses and traveled until well after nightfall. They arrived at a large house and after a brief exchange; they were given rooms and a place to stable the horses. "How is it they do not recognize you?" Cory asked astonished that the woman at the gate seemed to treat them both like wealthy travelers, but nothing more. "To them you are a god."

"I don't make it known that I am a being unlike them. Sometimes I allow them to see my power but," he reached into her thoughts again. "We do not have celebrity fame here. I do not use my name except when I am in my own hall and I have mastered the art of camouflage. I look ordinary."

Cory shifted her position by the fire. It was hard for her to contain her thoughts but she was not ready to tell him he was anything but ordinary. "I have been reading your books and they don't make any sense," she said changing the subject.

"You can read Taljorean? I am impressed. Not even your friend Trace can read it yet."

"Well, I have had nothing to do other than to read and bathe, be fed and style my hair." She absently twirled a loose strand that fell in her face. "I have so many questions to ask you."

"Ask me then. I am all yours as I promised. Although some of your questions may be too difficult to answer properly, I will do my best to help you make sense of what you want to know."

"What was your crime?"

Ares choked. Of all the questions she could have asked, this was the one he expected the least to be asked. He leaned back against on his arms, staring into the fire. It burned brightly for a moment then faded a little. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I rebelled against the Antween council and raised a small army with me. Many council members died and in the chaos that ensued was a turning point in Antween history. I was blamed for the deaths of all council members and I was exiled here along with everyone who led with me. My leaders however blame me for the harsh punishment. I was the only one not to ask forgiveness for my crimes, as I am not sorry for what I did. While it was regrettable that so many ceased, the result was well worth it. Antween is free from the oppression it once suffered under." He opened his eyes and to his astonishment, the girl looked sad.

"You were a revolutionary." She reached over the short distance between them and touched his hand. "I am truly sorry for you." There was a long pause and too much intensity between them. Cory felt as if she would burst into flames at any moment. "Anteween is a planet?" she asked suddenly. "It sounds like it is a constellation."

"Antween is a group of planets in a galaxy that rests about 15 million light years from your sun."

"How did you get here?"

"Ah, this is one those questions you will have a hard time understanding. What you call a black hole is the closest match I can come up with in your language."

"That explains how you got here but not how you change the progression of time here. How do stay in this time slip?"

"Tramail is a skilled manipulator of the dimension of time. He knows the secret of the gates and he is a learned scientist. But he suffers like we all do."

"Why is he here? Is he an exile like you?"

"In part, yes. He developed the weapon that I used against the council. He did not know that I would use it for such a purpose, but the council considered him dangerous and sent him here with us. Still they took pity on him and because he committed no real crime, and they made him our jailer."

"Can he return to Antween?"

Ares shifted and once again looked into the fire. Something softly changed about his appearance, but Cory brushed it off as a trick of the firelight. "None of us can. We can not escape this place, we can not die and we can not fully take the form of our true being either."

"Then why is the gate in existence? If you can't leave this place, why does the gate exist?" There was a new level of curiosity and perhaps a small amount distrust in what he was saying. Cory had the distinct impression that his words had been rehearsed.

"The gate exists because Tramail made it for his children. Tramail is the only one of us who does not have a filter on his genetic code. The form he takes today is a man's form in its truest replication with only a few minor adjustments. Our form however is a filtered version of human genetics. We cannot have children except with each other and no one wants to subject a being to this prison so we do not have them. But Tramail because he is not limited to the same forms we are, can and does have children. He realized quickly though that his children could not accompany him. When the time to make the shift approached, they died horrific slow deaths as their code dissolved of Tramail's genetic input. He watched them suffer for years as the shift took place."

Bile rose in her throat thinking about dying so slowly. "How long does the shift take?"

"In your measure of time, 50 years. By the twenty-fifth progression, Tramail could no longer stand by and watch his own progeny die. He devised the gate as a way to send his children out of this time slip and into another. They could return if they so wished but only a few were created that could retain the memory of how to use the gate. For most of the children, the human side was far too strong and their minds too weak to handle the "reality". We believe most of them became insane but we are not sure what happened to them. Then thousands of your years ago, the gate was lost or some say stolen."

"None of this is written in the books."

"What happens here is of no consequence to anyone. Our history is only important to us."

"But we who come later, write your history don't we?"

"Your history of our existence is in part fact and mostly the romanticized notions of writers about our deeds. When we do something small like create a statue from the earth without touching a stone, they think it is the act of a god. But if they could see your world, you would be a god too."

Cory laughed a little. The thought of her being a god was truly laughable. She couldn't even stand up to her own stepfather. "Does Tramail still have children?"

"Far less than he did before. And now he must watch them suffer again."

"Hasn't he ever heard of contraception?"

Ares pulled his gaze away from the fire and stared at Cory as a father might look at a child who has just said something very ignorant. "I think I will let you ask him that question."

_Do not anger Tramail_, Athena's voice said gently in her head. "How did Trace and I come through the portal?"

"Some mysteries are still unfolding. I am afraid I do not know why or how you accessed the time gate. However, it is clear that you are here and as such, you must certainly be very special." Cory yawned loudly. "You should sleep," Ares said rising from his spot on the floor. He offered a hand to Cory and pulled her up a little too fast.

"I have so many more questions!" Cory almost cried. She did not want to end the evening. She wanted to sit beside him and listen to him speak in his melodic voice and watch his face as the firelight danced in his eyes. God how she wanted to kiss him. As if sensing her thoughts, he pulled her forehead to his lips and gently kissed her. Instead of feeling elated, she wanted to cry. He treated her like a small child, sending her to bed and kissing her on the head.

"We can spend the day together tomorrow if you want to," he suggested letting go of her.

Cory let out a long sigh and said, "Yes, I think I would like that." Her emotions were a bubbling seething mass of undefined feelings. But what was she expecting? That she would spend the night with him? She was being childish but she just couldn't help herself.

"We have plenty of time," he said softly. He turned to walk away.

Without thinking, she said "I want to kiss you," but he was already gone.

The interesting things about humans usually coincided with how easy they were to control. They could be loyal if trained well enough and a precious few were smart enough to make formidable companions. But they could never experience freedom from their physical form. Only in death would they come to understand how confined they really were in life.

Athena watched with interest as Ares toyed with the traveler. So far, she found it just as entertaining as he obviously did. He had not even bothered to hide his actions or his thoughts from the others although he easily could have. But if he hadn't wanted them to see his interaction with the girl, he wouldn't have invited them to watch. Even Tramail found the situation enjoyable to observe. The girl's questions were interesting, but Ares' responses were more so. He was as arrogant now, as the first moment he had been taken before the council. He had no remorse and he still had his explanation of Tramail's children was far too simplistic. But the whole truth about the children was more complicated than the girl was ready to understand.

"She lusts for him," Athena said coolly.

"Are you jealous?" asked a tall blond man sitting next to her. He was called Apollo but he hated the name. Reantineon was his Antween name.

"Most certainly not. I was just remarking that her thoughts betray her." Her liaison with Ares was a short one, but it was a constant source of endless humor for everyone. In the progressions before she realized how to keep her mind busy, she had turned to him for entertainment. And entertaining he was. But the side effect of union with him was an ebbing away of her physical form and strength. Before long he had taken so much of her power that it took two progressions to recover. The worst revelation came when he admitted to her that he had known all along what effect it had on her. He now had more strength than anyone except Tramail did as a result. She shook off the memory in haste. His deceit still stung her deeply. Athena stood up and looked at the assembled group. "While we are on the topic of the girl, I must relate some anomalies about her. First, she had no knowledge of the gate at all but she is able to block my probe into her mind when she wants to. I don't think she does it intentionally, but the power is an alarming one to say the least."

Tramail glanced at Athena. "Is it possible she is a child?"

"I would need the gate to see the code Tramail, or can you read it without it?"

Tramail turned sullen. "I can't read her code without the gate."

"Is she of the One Union?" asked Apollo as he licked juice from a pomegranate off his fingers. "She doesn't _look_ like she is a traveler."

"There are many mysteries still unfolding." Tramail said mocking Ares' voice. We can't empty the girl's mind without killing her and as Athena has so eloquently reminded me, we can not interfere out of this time slip."

"You better find the gate before the next shift Tramail or the girl and the man will be dead. If the Council finds out you built a gate here, you will be joining us as the jailed instead of the jailor." Athena smiled. "One more thing, Ares has given the other traveler our knowledge and somehow he has given him the power although how I do not know. He uses the power for his own simplistic pleasure, but he is very cunning and will eventually understand us. I fear Ares may try to use him as a tool of some kind."

"Noted," said Tramail. "Perhaps he gave the man some of the power he stole from you." Athena winced but said nothing. "There is at least some excitement in this progression. It is not surprising that Ares is able to give his power; he is the only one among us who can revert to a native form at will. Somehow the Antween council _forgot_ to strip him of that pleasure."

"They didn't forget. They torment him with the power to revert but never to completely be free. I think it is fitting. Not even the council knew how these life forms would feel to us," said Apollo. "The Creators made these creatures as they made us. They must serve a purpose."

"Maybe the Creators made this world and the race on it as a way to punish us," shrugged a small woman standing at Athena's side.

"Maybe the Creators don't care what happens to either of our races. They seem to be busy with other matters,' said another. At this last statement, the room erupted in conversation about religion and the role of race in the Creator's master plan.


End file.
